


I've Fallen (In Love)

by MayaReidBarnes1917



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bad Flirting, Boys In Love, Comfort/Angst, Couch Cuddles, Cutting, Depression, Fist Fights, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Internalized Homophobia, Love at First Sight, M/M, Memories, Mutual Pining, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Self-Harm, Tickle Fights, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unrequited Love, absolute adorableness, tags added as needed, trigger warning for:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-05-20 22:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6026836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayaReidBarnes1917/pseuds/MayaReidBarnes1917
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Stucky ficlets inspired by A Relationship In Ten Words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mamihlapinatapei

_Mamihlapinatapei_ (Yagan, an indigenous language of Tierra del Fuego) - The wordless yet meaningful look shared by two people who desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to start.

 

"Quit that, you jerk!" Steve's words were indignant, but overshadowed by the giggle that escaped him. A mischievous glint appeared in Bucky's eyes as he playfully poked Steve's side again, provoking another giggle. "Stop it!" Bucky raised an eyebrow.

 

"Stop what? I'm not doing nothing..." He poked Steve again and Steve slapped at his hand. When Steve turned to glare at him, Bucky made his expression into one of perfect innocence. Steve's eyeroll was a thing to behold as he groaned in annoyance and flopped backward onto the bed. Bucky laughed.

 

"Oh, come on, Stevie. I'm only joking with ya." Bucky plopped down next to him, practically bouncing the ninety-eight pound blond off the bed. He inched his hand up and tickled Steve's side, his friend letting out a peel of laughter and then attempting to regain his dignity by reaching out and tickling Bucky's stomach, sending him into a fit of laughter. Before Bucky could recover, Steve rolled over so he was hovering over the brunet and proceeded to move his fingers down Bucky's sides. Through his laughter, Bucky yelped.

 

"Hey, punk, cut that out!" Bucky pushed up off the bed and turned them over so he was pinning Steve to the bed. Steve let out a squeal that he would no doubt furiously deny. As Bucky paused to catch his breath, his eyes caught Steve's and he found himself trapped. He didn't know how long they stayed like that, both mesmerized by the others' bright blue eyes, but when Steve cleared his throat and let out a chuckle that sounded on the edge of nervous, Bucky forced himself to look away. He stood up quickly, offering a hand to Steve and pulling the smaller man up with ease. He forced a smile and turned away, toward the kitchen.

 

"You hungry?" He tossed over his shoulder, shaking himself to forget the way he had wanted to press his lips against Steve's. It didn't work quite as well as he wanted, and Bucky didn't see the way Steve stood, slightly dazed and neglecting to answer, too stuck in his own head.


	2. Yuanfen

_Yuanfen_ (Chinese) - A relationship by fate or destiny.

 

"Steve?"

 

"Hmm?" Steve hummed from the kitchen table where he at sketching.

 

"Do you believe in having a destiny?" Surprised,  the blond looked up to where Bucky had paused in the middle of making dinner. Bucky was leaning forward, his forearms resting on the kitchen island in the middle of the tiled floor. Steve blinked.

 

"Uh, I don't really know. Maybe. Where's this coming from?" Bucky only sprung these kinds of questions on him when he was seriously confused or concerned. It used to happen all the time when he was first adjusting to recovery, but not so much anymore, and Steve had let it catch him off guard. Even before the war, Bucky was never good with expressing emotional or personal things, so they had to be really bugging him for the brunet to speak up. Even then, Bucky always seemed to struggle to put it into words.

 

"It's... We were kids together. And then the war started. And... Azzano." Bucky shuddered and shook his head. "By all means, I should've died  _there._ I mean, what were the chances that you'd be chosen for some crazy-ass science experiment-" Steve flinched, knowing that that was a sore spot for Bucky, Steve doing something so  _'goddamn idiotic, fucking really, Stevie?'_ "-and then just happening to be there when we were captured? That much is amazing alone, but..." Bucky looked down, as though unable to meet Steve's eyes.

 

"Sometimes I wonder, after everything that's happened-"

 

"How could it just be chance." Steve finished for him. Bucky looked up suddenly and Steve was startled by the the intensity in his eyes. Steve stood and walked around the counter to take Bucky's hand. "Maybe it was. Maybe we're just insanely lucky and anything else could have happened at any time." Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at that thought. "But maybe there was some reason for all of this." Steve let out a humorless laugh and gave Bucky a wry smile. "It's what you choose to believe I guess. I never thought about it that way."

 

Bucky was silent before nodding to himself. "I think I could believe that." The brunet said softly. When Steve tilted his head in question, he elaborated. "That somehow we were always gonna end up here, together." Steve raised an eyebrow.

 

"Oh?" Bucky nodded at him sagely. 

 

"Cause there was never any way I was gonna let your punk ass get away from me." Steve made a show of rolling his eyes.

 

"You're a sap. An utter sap." Bucky just gave him his signature cocky smirk.

 

"But'cha love me."

 

"That I do." Steve laughed and pulled his boyfriend in for a long kiss, never wanting to let go.


	3. Cafune

_Cafune_ (Brazilian Portuguese) - The act of tenderly running your fingers through someone's hair.

 

Steve and Bucky didn't talk much as they made their way up the stairs to their shared apartment, both tired from the latest mission they had come home from. They made it in the door and Steve snorted as Bucky flopped on the couch. Bucky groaned in response.

 

"Shut up, ya punk." He lifted his head and gestured at Steve. "Get over here." A smile spread across Steve's face as he complied, grabbing a DVD off of the nearby coffee table and holding it up for Bucky to see.

 

"Nat sent this over. It's, uh, Star Wars. Wanna watch it?" Steve asked as he glanced at the cover to double check the name. _Wasn't there something else named this, too?_ Bucky shrugged, gaining Steve's attention again.

 

"Sure." Steve put the disc in and they settled on the couch together, Bucky's head in Steve's lap. Bucky tried to pay attention to the movie, he really did, but between the exhaustion of continuous missions and the warmth of Steve's body next to his, his eyelids grew heavy and he ended up dozing off. Steve carded his fingers through Bucky's long hair, occasionally catching a knot and untangling it. The sensation sent warm ripples of comfort down Bucky's spine. For the first time in a long time, he felt completely relaxed.

 

The next morning, Steve woke up and chuckled, amused at seeing that they had stayed curled together on the couch for the previous night. Careful not to disturb the sleeping brunet, Steve carefully extracted himself and went to the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of them for when Bucky woke.


	4. Retrouvailles

_Retrouvailles_ (French) - The happiness of meeting again after a long time.

 

"Buck. Do you remember me?" There is an agonizingly long silence until Bucky looks up.

 

"You're Steve. Your mom's name is Sarah. You used to wear newspapers in your shoes. You're an artist. You were always getting into fights. I-" Bucky stops before he can blurt out what he most wants to say. A small smile crosses Steve's lips, and he ignores Sam's protests as he steps forward. Bucky flinches at first, but allows Steve to wrap his arms around him in a hug, reminding himself that this is  _Steve,_ the little boy from Brooklyn, his love, his  _home._

 

Suddenly they're gripping each other as if as though the entire world depends on it. Bucky squeezes his eyes closed, hardly daring to believe that this is real, that Steve is here, holding him. He breathes deep, taking in the scent of Steve,  _apples and cinnamon,_ the smell of comfort. When Steve finally pulls away, Bucky can see the glisten of tears that made tracks through the dirt and smoke on Steve's cheeks.

 

"I thought I'd lost you again." Steve's words are so soft that that Bucky just barely heard them. He gives the blond a shaky smile.

 

"I'm sorry. I was confused, scared. I knew I couldn't stay, not with the info spill. I needed to get some things worked out for myself." Bucky swallowed. "Still do. I ran. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Steve just nods, face full of understanding.

 

"We can help you, Sam and I. We'll fix this. I promise."

 

 


	5. Ilunga

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: this chapter contains slightly graphic depiction of self-harm/cutting. Please do not read if this triggers you in any way. 
> 
> Because I could not bring myself to even fathom one of these two hurting the other, I have taken a different path with this word, as you will see. I have been kinda nervous about posting this chapter because of the content and how the issue hits close to home for me.

_****Ilunga_ (Bantu) - A person who is willing to forgive abuse the first time; tolerate it the second time, but never a third time.

 

the first time it happened, Steve woke to a crash. He sprung up in bed, immediately noticing Bucky's absence. 

 

"Bucky?" There was a sliver of light emanating from under the bathroom door. Steve swung his feet over the edge of the bed and moved swiftly to the closed door. He tried the knob. Locked. "Buck? Are you okay?" No answer. "Bucky? Bucky, open the door!" Steve leaned his forehead against the wood, trying to contain the panic in his voice. He took a breath.

 

"Buck, you're scaring me. Please, open the door. Don't make me break this damn thing down." Steve warned. After a brief silence, Steve heard the shuffle of feet, and the locked clicked open. The sight he was met with made him feel sick. He knew Bucky was struggling with recovery, but he never expected this. 

 

Bucky stood, visibly shaking, blood making a thin, steady stream down his flesh arm from three deep cuts, to pool on the floor. In his metal hand, he held a large shard from the smashed mirror that now lay in pieces on the counter and in the sink. Bucky's eyes were downcast, but Steve could see the way they were ringed with red and shadowed with dark circles.

 

"Oh, Buck..." Steve sat Bucky down on the edge of the tub and quickly grabbed a towel, ordering Bucky to put pressure on the wounds, knocking the glass out of his hand. He swept up what he could of the broken mirror and turned back to Bucky, medical supplies in hand. Bucky allowed him to clean the cuts and gave no reaction to the burning pain of the alcohol, his conditioning from Hydra showing through. When he had finished, Steve tilted Bucky's head to make him meet his eyes. Bucky's were dull and filled with guilt. It made Steve's heart ache. 

 

"Why?" He asked. Bucky swallowed hard.

 

"I-I couldn't stop the memories. I needed a way to... to make myself hurt for what I've done."

 

Steve shook his head. "No, Buck, you're not responsible for those things-"

 

"But I  _am,_ Steve. I am. I should've fought them harder. I gave up, I let them win." Steve felt helpless. He had no way to convince his boyfriend of his innocence. He gripped Bucky's hand and looked down at the bandages on the brunet's arm.

 

"Just promise me that if you ever feel like you're going to... do something like this again, you'll tell me. Hurting yourself isn't the answer." Bucky stared at Steve for a moment, but nodded slowly. Steve helped Bucky stand and guided him back to their bed.

 

 

The second time it happened, Steve had returned to their apartment after a mission. Bucky had been doing so well that when Steve opened the door to find the frightening sight of Bucky holding a bloody knife over his arm, Steve's heart nearly broke. He rushed to Bucky, grabbing the knife from his grip.

 

"Bucky, stop!" Steve searched around frantically for something to stop the bleeding. He pressed a wad of paper towels on the wound, replacing them every so often.

 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Steve didn't mean for the words to come out so harshly, but his concern for the brunet bled into anger at his refusal to open up.

 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Bucky's voice shook with barely restrained tears.

 

"Don't apologize." Steve said fiercely. He took a deep breath and pulled Bucky into a hug. "Don't apologize." He repeated more softly. "But you do need to talk to someone about this. I don't care if it's me or Nat or Sam or someone else. Just talk to somebody. It's better to let it out."

 

Steve pushed back to look his boyfriend in the eyes. "No matter how much I want to, I can't save you from yourself. I know it's hard, and it'll take time and work. I'm willing to stand with you for that, but..." Steve paused. "It's destroying me to see you do this to yourself, and I can't just stand here and let it happen. Tell me now, if you can't at least try, because I can't stay and watch." Steve took another breath now that he'd gotten it all out. 

 

Bucky was silent for a second, but then nodded shakily, understanding the meaning of Steve's words. "I'll try. I'll get help, I promise." Steve pulled him back into another hug.

 

"I love you." He mumbled into the brunet's shoulder. Bucky wrapped his arms tighter around Steve.

 

"I love you, too." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not endorse or promote any form of self-harm in any way. If you are engaging in a self-injurious activity or feel like you might, please talk to a friend, parent, or someone you trust.


	6. La Douler Exquise

_La Douler Exquise_ (French) - the heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can't have.

 

He regretted glancing over immediately. Bucky's date - what was her name anyway? Connie? Clara? - had dragged Bucky out on the dance floor, while Steve had turned his own date and she had moved to talk to someone else. So Steve sat at the bar with a drink, stewing in his ridiculous jealousy. He didn't even have the right to feel this way, but it wasn't like he could fix the wrongness in his head.

 

As the song ended, Steve had looked over at the same moment that Bucky ended the dance with a kiss on the girl's - Clara, he decided - cheek. Steve could feel that familiar wave of longing mixed with jealousy, pain and guilt well up and settle like a rock in his stomach. Slapping down the money to pay for his drink, he stood and made to leave, praying that Bucky wouldn't notice his departure. No such luck.

 

"Steve! Hey, Punk, where ya going?" Bucky's voice sounded behind him. Steve cringed and turned around to look at his friend.

 

"Uh, I just... need to get out of here for a bit. Not feeling well." He mumbled and felt a twinge of guilt as Bucky's expression of confusion turned to concern. Bucky's eyes looked him up and down, searching for physical symptoms of illness.

 

"You okay? You're not sick, are you?" Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Bucky make an aborted movement like he had wanted to reach out to check Steve's temperature, but thought better of it. Steve shook his head.

 

"No, no. I'll be fine, just thought a little rest might help." Steve lied through clenched teeth. His guilt grew, but he knew he had to leave before he said something stupid or Bucky noticed his bubbling surge of emotions he was trying his hardest to keep in check. 

 

"Oh. Ok..." Bucky looked a little hurt at the brush-off. "Well, I'll meet you back at the apartment, then?" Steve took a deep breath and nodded, forcing himself to turn away from his friend's disappointed face. He walked the three blocks through the autumn breeze to their tenement. 

 

Once inside, he collapsed on his bed and tried to shut off he thoughts swirling in his head. He struggled his way toward sleep. Before he could reach it, though, he heard the open and close of the door that announced Bucky's return. Steve turned over and pretended to be asleep while Bucky climbed into his own bed on the other side of the room. He flicked off the light, bathing the room in darkness. As he fell into the clutches of sleep, Steve heard a faint, 'night, Stevie.' but his exhaustion won before he could respond.


	7. Koi No Yokan

_Koi No Yokan_ (Japanese) - The sense upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love.

 

Steve balled his fists as he stared up at the three much taller boys. He stood his ground as they sneered down at him.

 

"I said,  _leave her alone._ " He grit out, and the tallest of the bullies laughed.

 

"And just what are you gonna  _do_ about it?" The boy punctuated his sentence by shoving Steve hard in the chest, making him stumble silghtly. Steve only put up his fists in response. The bullies crowed with laughter, and the one to the left called out.

 

"Look 'ere, boys! He thinks he's gonna scare us off!" They made a show of rolling up their sleeves. "Why don't we teach him a lesson, eh? Show him where he belongs." Before one of the boys could throw a punch, though, Steve had struck out, landing his fist on the jaw of the tallest boy.

 

It barely made him stumble, and he glared down at Steve with blazing anger. He reeled back and struck Steve on the side of the head, throwing him off balance and toppling him to the ground. Steve tasted blood in his mouth and spit. He prayed he hadn't broken a tooth this time, or his ma would kill him. The bullies taunted and jeered at him. With a roar, he launched himself up and tried to tackle one of the boys, but the boy side-stepped him, pushing Steve to the ground again.

 

The bullies advanced on him, and Steve braced himself, bringing his arms up to guard against blows. And return as many as he could.

 

"Hey! Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" Steve as surprised by a voice from behind him. The bullies groaned.

 

"Must you always ruin our fun, James?" The middle boy said scathingly. Steve turned his head to see a tall, dark-haired boy with blue-grey eyes that held steel as he glared at the three bullies. He looked maybe a year or so older than Steve himself.

 

"Leave him alone. Go find some other poor soul to terrorize." The bullies grumbled, but turned and trudged away. The boy turned to Steve, his expression softening from anger to concern. It surprised Steve. He had been expecting pity or condescension, like every time before. Instead he found slight awe in James's gaze. "You alright?" He reached down a hand to help Steve up. Steve shook off his daze and accepted it, brushing the dirt from his clothes.

 

"I had 'em on the ropes." The brunet's eyes twinkled with amusement at the statement.

 

"I'm sure you did. I'm James, by the way. James Buchanan Barnes. But you can call me Bucky." He held out his hand again and Steve hesitated only a moment before fitting his hand in Bucky's, the taller boy's bright eyes making his stomach flutter a nervous excitement he couldn't place. Bucky's touch was warm of his palm, and his smile something Steve felt as if he could stare at forever, wished he could capture on paper.

 

"Steve Rogers."


	8. Ya'aburnee

_Ya'aburnee_ (Arabic) - "You bury me." It is a declaration of one's hope that they'll die before another person because of how difficult it would be to live without them.

 

"Come on, Stevie, stay with me, please." Bucky hunched over the bed, gripping Steve's hand. The skin-and-bone blond had been ill for the past week and a half, and instead of getting better, his fever worsened and he was only half awake when he was conscious. Bucky tried to get Steve to eat, but almost everything came up within minutes. So Bucky had done his best to keep him as comfortable as possible and prayed to God that Steve would make it through this.

 

Despite what he made at the docks, medication was expensive, and he'd missed so much work taking care of Steve that he hadn't been able to make enough. The previous night he had snuck out when he was sure Steve was deeply asleep and managed to get the extra on the streets. Bucky wasn't proud of it; shame burned inside him. But he had done it before when they were seriously short on the rent or Steve's medication exceeded what he had to give. Besides, if lending himself to another's pleasure for a little extra would save Steve's life, he was more than willing.

 

But more frequently came the fear that everything still wouldn't be enough. That Steve would slip away from him in the night, and he'd wake, the body beside him cold.  _No,_ he pushed the thought out of his mind.  _It has to be enough._

 

"Please, Steve, you gotta fight this. Come back to me. I don't know what I'd do without you, Stevie." Bucky was bone-tired and barely had the strength even to cry, but tears leaked from his eyes and made dark dots on the blanket below. "Wake up, please wake up. Don't leave me here alone." The brunet whispered, resting his head on their joined hands.

 

 

Bucky woke to the feeling of Steve running his fingers through Bucky's dark hair.  _Steve_. Bucky opened his eyes, barely daring to hope. His eyes met with Steve's light blue ones. Steve looked rather worse for wear, and still so very pale, but he was awake.

 

"Steve... Oh thank God." Steve tried for a tired smirk.

 

"Didn't think you were getting rid of me that easily, did you?" His voice was horse from coughing and disuse.

 

"Shut the fuck up, Punk, it ain't funny." Bucky replied, but let out a relieved laugh all the same.

 

 


	9. Forelsket

_Forelsket_ (Norwegian) - The euphoria you experience when you're first falling in love.

 

It was beautiful and wonderful. Butterflies in your stomach. Head full of fluff and stupid, sappy things. Utterly amazing and  _so goddamn infuriating._ That was love, at least to Steve Rogers. He couldn't get that stupid brown haired boy boy out of his head, with his stormy blue eyes, and his blinding smile, and his angel-like laugh, and-  _UGH!_

 

Steve shook his head to clear it. Staring back down at his math homework, he tried to make sense of the jumbled numbers, but his mind seemed set on screwing him over.

 

"Hey, Steve. You alright?" A voice next to him said. He looked up to see Mark, a fellow classmate, smirking at him. "You look like ya got some pretty dame stuck in your head." Steve blushed in spite of himself.

 

"No I don't." He mumbled. Mark laughed.

 

"Oh, man, you got it bad. Come on, spill. Who is it?" The boy leaned in with a mock whisper.

 

"I do not!" Came the indignant reply. "And it's none of your damn business, anyway." Steve decided he wasn't going to get anything done, at least not now, and asked the teacher if he could go to the bathroom. Once there, he leaned on the sink and splashed his face with cold water, glaring at his reflection. Steve sighed and returned to class, resigning himself to the frustrating lack of concentration.

 

 

Steve entered the apartment, tossing his book bag to the floor and calling to his mother.

 

"I'm home, Ma!" His mother appeared from the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel. She smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead as she walked by to the living room.

 

"Welcome home, sweetie. Have a good day?" Steve sighed.

 

"Yeah. Great. You know what, I'm gonna go lie down for a little bit." His Ma looked at him, concerned.

 

"What's wrong? Do you feel ill? Do you have a temperature?" She pressed a hand to his forehead before he could protest. Steve pushed it off, gently.

 

"No, Ma, I'm fine, really. I'm just a little tired." That seemed to quell her worries, and Steve's my started to walk back toward the kitchen. 

 

"Okay, then. Dinner should be ready in about twenty minutes."

 

"Alright, Ma." Steve waited until she had disappeared, and then made his way to him room, flopping on the bed. Not five minutes had passed before there was a quiet knock on the door, and Bucky poked his head in the room.

 

"Hey." He said softly. "Your ma said you'd be in here. You not feeling well?" 

 

"Not exactly." Steve ducked his head, suddenly guilty about the way he had left Bucky at his locker earlier. Bucky frowned and stepped fully through the door, closing it behind him. He sat on the bed next to Steve, who felt his stomach flip, like always. 

 

"What's wrong, Doll?" The brunet carded his fingers through Steve's hair. Steve looked at his lap, embarrassed. 

 

"It's stupid, really." He mumbled. "Mark was teasing me about liking a dame and all I could think about was how frustrating it is to have to hide all the time, Buck." Bucky sighed.

 

"I know, I hate it, too." He brought his hand down to stroke Steve's cheek, forcing him to meet his eyes. "But at least we get moments like this." Bucky whispered, and gently pressed his lips to Steve's. Steve felt Bucky's other hand trace down his side to rest on his hip and leaned into the kiss. Their urgency increased and soon Steve found himself flat on his back on the bed with Bucky hovering over him. They startled when Sarah Roger's voice sounded from outside. 

 

"Steve! Dinner!" The two boys broke apart.

 

"Coming, Ma!" The blond smiled up at Bucky, who was miming clutching his ear, as if Steve's yell had deafened him. "Oh, quit that, you jerk. Wanna stay for dinner?"

 

"'Course I do, Punk. Never pass up a chance for Sarah Rogers' cooking." Steve laughed and let himself be hauled up off the bed, feeling the warmth of Bucky's hands warming his and reveling in the perfect fit of their fingers.


	10. Saudade

_Saudade_ (Portuguese) - The feeling of longing for someone that you love and is lost, or the vague and constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist.

 

"Hold on! Grab my hand!" The cold air of the snowy mountains rushed past the and Steve had to scream to be heard. Panic and adrenaline roared through his veins and made his head pound in time to his frantic heart. If he could just reach a little farther...

 

It seemed as if it were in slow motion; Steve could only watch in paralyzed horror when the last bolt holding the railing that Bucky clung to, loosened and came undone. Bucky's scream of terror was almost completely swallowed in the winds, but Steve knew in his heart that he'd never forget the sound ripped from his friend's lungs. Only just stopping himself from flinging himself off the train as well, Steve let out a feral yell of his own and lunged foreward. He felt his fingers brush against Bucky's momentarily, a last touch, before Bucky plunged out of his reach.

 

" _No!_ " Steve couldn't tear his eyes from the brunet's dark blue coat as it shrunk and disappeared into the chasm below. Only after it was gone from sight, did it hit him.  _Gone. Bucky was gone._ The broken captain curled in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut. It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. _It. Wasn't. True._ Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it was, but he couldn't think, couldn't process it over the litany of no. No, no, no.  _No._ Just some cruel trick.

 

Part of him realized that he was still clinging to the side of the train, that he should get back inside. But turning around would mean turning his back on Bucky. Turning back to an empty train car.  _What happened to the end of the line?_ When Steve gathered the courage to haul himself back into the carriage, he thought for a brief moment that he's Bucky there, watching his six. But he wasn't. Never would be there again, just at Steve's back. The realization struck with blinding force and Steve felt something shatter deep in his chest.

 

 

 

Steve woke, gasping for breath. His nightmare rushed into his consciousness and the pain that enveloped his heart felt like thorns in his lungs. Sucking in another breath was like breathing fire. Steve clenched his eyes shut and opened them again, staring at the dark ceiling. In the cover of night, he could almost believe he was back in his old apartment, in the forties, the dim light from early morning seeping in the window as he waited for Bucky to wake as well. He shook his head and sat up.

 

Steve grabbed his notebook and a pencil from his bedside table and flipped it open. Page after page was filled with pictures as drawings of his old life. Bucky, before the war, his smile, mid-laugh, looking out from the pages at Steve with his usual old sense of bravado and breathtaking charm. Complete happiness and contentment as he slept or looked out over Brooklyn from their small tenement window. There were pictures of the city, too, along with sketches of Bucky's little sister, Becca. Some of Steve's mother and some of Winnifred Barnes. 

 

The drawings from the war were always tinged with sadness. Even in the slight lines, the dampening of Bucky's life could not be hidden, try as he had to keep it from them all. Bucky sat with the Howling Commandos around a fire or in whatever hideout they had found, joking and telling stories. Though he was smiling, Steve could remember the way his bright eyes flickered; the war had taken its toll on everyone. There were a few drawings of sleepless nights, when Bucky would wake from a nightmare. Steve knew that expression of pain and fear, captured it on paper. Sometimes he wished he hadn't but he can't bring himself to erase it.

 

Another picture causes him pause. Bucky looks out at him, mouth slightly open in surprise, eyes wide and almost vulnerable, filled with an indescribable emotion. Steve remembers it. The night that he had thrown everything to chance, grabbed Bucky and pulled him into a searing kiss, fear and relief still pumping through his veins from a mission gone sideways. When he can bring himself to turn the page again, he flinches when the terrified but determined face of his lover, using all of his strength to hold onto that railing just before he fell, appears, shocking him. 

 

Steve very nearly tears the page, as he turns it with violent speed. The next one is blank, and Steve wasted no time putting pencil to paper as he recreated another memory from before the war. Bucky sat atop the window sill in Steve's bedroom. The sun filtered in and lighted upon his hair, making him squint slightly when he  looked out the window to the bustling of the newly wakened city below. 

 

 _"It's amazing, ain't it, Stevie?"_ Steve remembers the brunet asking.  _ ~~~~"That we're all here. So many people in one city. And just think: even more out there, places we've never been."_  Steve hadn't been able to find the words to respond. _"I'd like to see all those places. Go somewhere new. You'd come with me, right?"_ Bucky had turned back to look at him.

 

 _"Of course, Jerk."_ Steve had replied. As Steve finished the drawing, he noticed a few small drops of water on the paper and brushed them off. Steve stared at the life-like rendition and felt the familiar ache of longing in his heart. Tucking the small book away, he closed his eyes and lied down again, wishing the ever-present wish to see Bucky one last time, to be able to say goodbye, hold him in his arms again. The blond sighed and resigned himself to sleep that never came.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who stuck around to read this. I'm kinda sad this is over (I know it's not very long, but it's the first multi-chapter thing I've attempted in a while), so if you guys have any ideas for me, I'd sure love to hear 'em! Thanks again and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
